


Sandor Baby

by Kitsfics



Series: SanSan One Shots [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Embarrassment, F/M, Fluff, Karaoke, Kissing in the storage closet, One Shot, Pack Prompt, Sandor is a big softie, Written for Red Wulf Pack, Wulf Pack 12/20, Wulf Pack December 2020, just a bunch of kissing, kissing under mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:48:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsfics/pseuds/Kitsfics
Summary: Sansa is mortified to learn she got drunk at the company holiday party and sang karaoke to Santa Baby... only she might have sang "Sandor Baby" instead. Does Sandor think she's dotty, or really cute? Little of both maybe. Christmas fluff, with just a touch of matchmaker.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Series: SanSan One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168991
Comments: 43
Kudos: 121
Collections: Pack Member Stories





	Sandor Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy my bit of SanSan Fluff!!!
> 
> ETA: added a tag for embarrassment, in case people have issues with second-hand embarrassment. I don't think it's too bad, but just want people to be prepared.

Sansa was awoken, rather against her will, to a pounding at the door.

“Stop,” she mumbled, rolling over.

But the pounding would not stop, and the headache that had begun as a dull ache elevated to a throbbing that threatened to crack open her skull. She had no choice but to get up and put a stop to the racket.

Sansa found her feet unsteadily, her stomach swimming for a moment before flipping over and returning to its normal position in her abdomen. Sansa took a few steps toward the front door.

She turned and looked back in wonder. She had passed out on the couch. She didn’t even make it to the bed?

The pounding grew still more insistent. “Fucking cut it out, I swear to God…” Sansa fiddled with the locks on the door then wrenched it open.

“What could you possibly want?” she asked.

Margaery stood on her doormat, of all people, looking positively radiant and far too lively.

“Good morning to you too, Sansa.” Margaery breezed past, despite not having been asked in.

“Um, sure, come right in…” Sansa said with a sarcastic wave of her hand.

Margaery went right to the kitchen and found Sansa’s stash of coffee beans. “Filters?”

Sansa wanted to ask why Margaery, her very much work-mate, was standing in her kitchen, trying to make her coffee. Then she just shrugged and pointed to the cabinet above the coffee maker. She took a seat at the bar and watched Margaery fill the coffee pot and pour it into the reservoir, then hit brew.

Margaery turned to the fridge, took out a carton of eggs, some sandwich meat, and a packet of shredded cheese. Sansa watched, slightly amused, as Margaery pulled out a skillet, chopped up the ham, and made her a ham and cheddar omelet. By the time the first omelet was finished, the coffee was brewed, and Margaery served Sansa an omelet and mug of coffee.

“Margaery, what the hell are you doing here? Serving me breakfast. I’m not tipping!” she protested, scooping up a forkful of the cheesy, eggy concoction that was surprisingly delicious. “How do you even know where I live?”

“Oooh, so you don’t remember me bringing you home last night?”

Sansa froze, coffee mug halfway between the counter and her mouth. Now that she thought of it, she couldn’t remember how she had made it home.

“Yeah, you were pretty blitzed, kiddo.”

Sansa drank some more coffee, finished her omelette. Margaery poured her some more coffee, added a little cream. Sansa sat for a moment, trying to remember the night before.

“I wasn’t an ass, was I? I couldn’t stand the thought of being one of those screaming, bawling, inappropriate drunk girls.”

Margaery smiled at her. “No, course not. You were a proper little lady.”

“Really?”

“Honestly, it was so cute. You just ran around giving people hugs, slurring your words, telling them they were your favorite.” Margaery sipped. “And-”

Sansa froze. “And what?”

“Well, remember how you swore you wouldn’t sing karaoke?”

Sansa’s hands flew up to her face. “No!”

Margaery scrunched up her face. “Fraid so, kiddo.”

“That’s so embarrassing! What did I sing?”

Margaery pushed herself up from the counter she had been leaning on, pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Well, I think you should probably just watch it.”

She pulled up a video, hit play, and handed it to Sansa, then collected the dishes and took them to the sink. Sansa watched in horror as a girl who looked just like her, but was undeniably, helplessly drunk, ran up to the microphone to cheers from her drunk work-mates. She laughed and leaned into the mic. Sansa cringed, it was so strange to watch herself doing something she barely remembered. She did remember the lights, almost blinding, and this was one of her favorite Christmas songs, so if she was going to sing a karaoke song, this would be the one.

“Hello!” she said a little too loud, then the music started. She missed the intro, so she came in on the next line. Sansa swallowed in nervousness, but was relieved to hear that her drunk counterpart actually had a pretty decent voice.

_Slip a sable under the tree for me_

_Been an awful good girl_

_Sandor baby_

Sansa almost dropped the phone. She glanced up at Margaery but she was washing the dishes.

She shook her head. Couldn’t be. She was just hearing wrong. It was a bad recording. She thought of a dozen excuses as to what could have occurred. But then it happened again.

_Sandor baby, a ‘54 convertible too, light blue_

_I’ll wait up for you dear_

_Sandor baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight_

Three times. Three times she had sung Sandor’s name instead of Santa. Sansa clasped her hands over her eyes as her past, drunk-self continued to sing. Afterall, maybe no one noticed. Maybe Sandor wasn’t even there.

_Think of all the fun I’ve missed_

Sansa sank even farther into the hole beneath her that she wished would swallow her whole, as the person filming swung to find Sandor in the audience, sitting with a group of the IT department, all of whom Renly had insisted on attending. He was sitting at a table not 15 feet away from where Sansa was standing, obliviously asking her gruff, inscrutable co-worker to think of all the men she _hadn’t_ kissed. From his expression through the admittedly shaky screen, it was pretty clear that he was aware Sansa was saying “Sandor” instead of “Santa”, and that he was not amused by these events.

“Oh God, he probably thought I was making fun of him or something.”

“I thought you were flirting,” Margaery admitted, having come to stand behind Sansa at some point. She took the phone from Sansa and stopped the video, set the phone on the table.

Sansa shook her head, wiping away a few tears. “I can’t believe I did that!”

“Oh, don’t cry! It’s nothing to get upset about! It’s just a little embarrassing, that’s all!”

“Oh, that’s all!” Sansa cried. “Why did you come here, then? To rub my face in it?”

“No! First, I wanted to make sure you were all right. I don’t know if you’ve ever drank like that, and I’m sorry we let you get that way. It was just so hard to tell, you’re deceptively sober when you drink! You seemed fine so we kept buying you drinks.”

“I’m sorry,” Sansa’s shoulders sagged as she rubbed her eyes. “I shouldn’t have assumed- I just thought you came to gloat.”

Margaery rubbed her back gently. “And I’m not going to send it to anyone or anything like that. I started to film because it was so cute. You said all night you wouldn’t sing, so I just wanted to take a little video. I just didn’t want you to think I was being mean.”

“No, I’m the one being mean. You’ve been so nice to me and come over and made me breakfast. I didn’t even know we were friends!”

Margaery laughed at that. “Well, we are now! I think carrying you home, drunk, is enough to make even strangers friends.”

Sansa couldn’t help laughing. “You carried me home?”

“No, not really. Like I said, you were really very lucid and in control, it was kind of amazing. You couldn’t tell me where you lived, I had to check your driver’s license, but you walked up the stairs, opened the door, and flopped on the couch, and then you were pretty much passed out, on your stomach. I tried to get you to go into the bedroom, but you refused. You said ‘bed’s are for closer’. I finally got you to drink some water, and then I left.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I sound like a real hoot.”

She sighed and finished her coffee. “What about Sandor? Did you talk to him at all? Was he annoyed?”

“He left shortly after this. I was actually going to ask you the same question, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what about Sandor? Was this just a coincidence or do you have feelings for him?” Margaery took a sip of her coffee.

Sandor, how did she feel about Sandor? She thought back to the first time she’d met him, on her very first day at Stag Enterprises, following the HR specialist Shireen on a tour of the building. She’d turned and walked backwards a step to make way for someone rolling a cart out of the breakroom, and thought for a second she’d walked into a wall, though that was silly, obviously there hadn’t been a wall there a second ago. She turned her head and found her entire field of vision filled with a man’s chest, like a wall of plaid. She craned her head back to find the owner of the impressive barrel-chest, an equally intimidating man, bearded and scowling.

She quickly jumped out of his way, standing beside Shireen, who smiled brightly at the behemoth.

“Sandor, this is Sansa. She’s just starting today as our Junior Marketing Director. Sansa, this is Sandor, he works in IT.”

Sansa smiled at Sandor as brightly as she could, considering he was still just kind of glowering at her. She almost held out her hand to him to shake, but thought better of it. Besides, both his hands were full with his lunch bag, a water tumbler, an empty coffee cup and a book in the crooks of his elbows. He nodded at Sansa, then walked past them, into the break room. Shireen and Sansa followed, and Shireen continued the tour, and Sansa was only a little distracted by Sandor, depositing his armful on a table by the floor-to-ceiling windows, and settling into his lunch with his book open on his lap, hunched over reading while he began to much potato chips.

After the tour moved on to the second floor, Shireen explained about Sandor in a hushed tone. “Don’t mind him, he’s a little standoffish, but he’s very nice. Helps everyone with their computer problems, though not always with the sunniest disposition.”

Sansa shot back to reality, realized she’d zoned out and several moments had passed since Margaery had asked her how she felt about Sandor. Margaery has a smile on her face that was half sympathetic, half smug.

“Ugh, I don’t know! It’s too early in the morning for this talk.”

“Goofy girl, if you like him, you like him. I don’t think the time of day has much to do with it. You mean it’s too early to talk to me, and I completely agree. I’ll get out of your hair.” She put away the dishes she had just cleaned, which Sansa quickly realized had included last night’s dinner dishes as well as the ones from breakfast. Then she grabbed her phone and purse from the counter.

“Hope it wasn’t too great of an intrusion, just wanted to make sure you were ok. You know you’re my favorite person at that office, right?”

Sansa melted a little. “Thank you, Margaery. And I’m glad you came and told me. Imagine finding out tomorrow!” she shuddered with horror.

“It’ll be alright. You’ll see.” Margaery gave Sansa a quick side-long hug and then was off, shutting the door behind her, leaving Sansa’s apartment quiet for the first time in half an hour. Sansa felt suddenly unsure of what to do with herself.

After a few minutes, she made herself get up and take a shower. She felt better after, going about her morning routine, humming to herself. She laughed when she suddenly realized she’d been singing “Santa Baby”.

How did she feel about Sandor? He was always so brusque and quiet, it always unsettled her slightly. If she found herself alone with him in the elevator, she instinctively filled the space with chatter, and bolted as soon as the doors opened. It’s not that he scared her, he was just extremely imposing.

She still remembered the day, she’d been working there four months by then, when they’d found themselves waiting for the elevator together, late at night. They seemed to be the only ones who didn’t leave early on Fridays, every other employee of Stag Enterprises left early for happy hours, or to rush home to get ready for a date. Was it possible they were the only ones at that whole company who didn’t date?

She started to ask him about the email migration the company was gearing up for, the one that had been causing IT headaches for weeks. The elevator was taking forever, someone seemed to have it held up on the first floor.

Sandor finally spoke. “Do you keep talking five minutes after you go to sleep?”

Sansa froze. She didn’t take criticism well, had once cried for days in elementary school when a girl told her she didn’t want to be her friend. And conversation was the only social weapon she had, take it away and she felt like she was fighting swordsmen with a toothpick.

Sandor sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean to- you just talk a lot- it was just a dumb joke-”

Sansa smiled. “I’m pretty sure I start talking five minutes before I wake up, too.”

After a moment, he laughed. It was a short laugh, as brusque as the rest of him, more like a bark, almost, but it was unmistakably a laugh. Which set Sansa to laughing, perhaps a bit too manically, out of stress. And then she snorted.

She stopped laughing out of shock, but then Sandor was laughing, really laughing, a great big chortling sound, and Sansa was laughing at herself and at the big sound coming out the large man beside her.

Ever since then, they kind of became friends. It definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed, Margaery, the only other employee in marketing besides their boss, Cersei, marveled at the change in him one day as Sandor passed by their desks on the way to fix Cersei’s computer.

“Good morning, Sandor,” Sansa chirped brightly when she saw him. Sandor’s mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile as he passed.

“Morning Sansa, Margaery.”

Margaery had stared after him, then turned her astonished expression on Sansa. “Did he just say ‘good morning’?”

“Think it was just ‘morning’, but, yeah.”

Everyone in the office had noticed a change in Sandor. Even Davos, the head of IT, had stopped by Sansa’s desk to ask her what she had done to Sandor, and if she could keep doing it. She had just shrugged. It hadn’t really seemed like a big deal. Surely she wasn’t the only person in Stag Enterprises who had ever gotten through Sandor’s tough shell?

  
  
  


Sansa went to bed that night with the big unanswered question, and still hadn’t answered it by the next morning. She thought of Margaery’s kind words as she got ready for work, that it wasn’t that big of a deal, it would blow over, but couldn’t help the knots twisting in her stomach.

She picked out a cute outfit, one that always gave her confidence: a pair of navy blue trousers, slim cut and hugging her curves, a pale peach T-shirt tucked into the front of her pants, and a white blazer. She combed out her hair with her fingers, taking a last look at her makeup, hoping that immaculately winged eyeliner and perfect matte coral lipstick would protect her from embarrassment like armor.

She needn’t have been too worried. When she arrived, and walked past the desks, she felt like everyone was looking at her, but nobody said anything. The room didn’t even get quiet. She walked to her desk as quickly as possible, and snuck a look around as she took off her coat and scarf. Everyone just carried on working.

Just like that, a huge wave of relief washed over her. She still wanted to find Sandor at some point and apologize. But it’s not like anyone was pointing and laughing. After all, they probably didn’t even notice. It had been so loud and hectic that night, from what she had seen of the video, everyone chatting and talking while she was singing. It probably wasn’t even a huge deal.

She booted up her computer and went to get coffee while it restarted. When she came back with her coffee, she logged in and started to open all her normal programs, their instant message app, the company intranet, email. She opened up a few projects Cersei had asked her to work on, some social media posts they would put out that week, emails for the company mailing list.

She worked normally for an hour or so, or tried to. At ten o’clock, Cersei walked by her desk.

“Sansa, where’s that copy for the new Instagram ad? I need to run it by Renly at our lunch meeting.”

The bottom fell out of Sansa’s stomach. “Oh no, I forgot. I’m so sorry. Give me a few minutes-” she reached over to grab her pad of paper and pen, but ended up knocking over her coffee cup. Luckily, it was almost empty, but then she had to scramble to get napkins out of the bottom drawer of her desk. Cersei sighed and pinched the top of her nose.

“Margaery!” she yelled, despite the fact that Margaery’s desk was only a few feet away.

“Yes?”

“Can you please get me your notes from the meeting we had on Friday about the new Instagram ads?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll email them right now.” Margaery shot Sansa a sympathetic look behind Cersei’s back.

“Sansa, I’m not angry. I just really need you to focus right now. Please make sure to finish the marketing email by the end of day, ok?”

Sansa felt like she was shrinking under the weight of both the fiasco of the holiday party, and now her failure at work. She tried to focus on work, but could feel her lower lip wobble, her vision start to cloud. She bit the inside of her lip. She would not cry at work, she would not embarrass herself still further.

A shadow fell on her desk, Sansa set a smile on her face and looked up. It was Renly.

“Good morning!” she chirped.

Renly smiled gently. “Did Cersei ask you to work on the email?”

She nodded, blinking a few times to clear her eyes.

“That can wait until the afternoon. There’s something I really need your help with.”

Sansa discretely wiped at the corner of her eye as she ducked to throw the wet napkins away in the wastebasket under her desk. “Of course, how can I help?”

“The holiday spirit in here is just terrible. It’s the last time I let accounting be in charge of decorations.”

Sansa laughed with Renly. “I know we have some lights from last year, but they’re in the Crypt, do you remember-”

“Yes, I put them away last year. They're back in the back corner.” Sansa knew exactly where they were, in three stacked plastic totes.

Renly sighed with relief. “Would you mind terribly if I asked you to take the rest of the morning and dig out the decorations and put them up? I know you’re completely over-qualified, but you’re the only one I trust with this. We have a potential client coming in tomorrow, and I’d really like this place to look a little more festive.”

Sansa realized she was grinning. “I’d love to! If you think Cersei won’t mind.”

“No, of course not. Margaery’s doing that Instagram thing, which, between you and me, isn’t that important anyway. We almost always end up using the exact same copy.”

Sansa giggled, she privately had thought the exact same thing several times. “All right, if you’re sure it’s ok.”

“Sansa, I’m in charge,” Renly said in a very serious voice, then cracked a smile. “Well, at least Stannis lets me think so.”

Sansa laughed as she stood up from her desk. Stannis was actually, technically in charge, though he was more of a silent partner, and Renly handled the day-to-day affairs. She had met Stannis a few times, usually on important client meetings, and she couldn’t imagine him planning or caring about holiday decorations.

“Take as long as you need, that email isn’t going out until Wednesday.” Renly gave her a final warm smile, and the key to the storage room, before moving away.

Sansa shrugged out of her blazer (the storage room was often dusty and she didn’t want to soil her pure white jacket), locked her computer, and headed to the stairwell to take the three flights of stairs down to the main floor, to the room nicknamed The Crypt.

The building that Stag Enterprises rented had three main floors, with a parking garage in the basement. Sansa and most of the company worked on the third floor, with accounting and sales on the third floor. When asked why he had arranged the office like this, Renly made a thinly-veiled comment implying he didn’t like accounting or sales very much. The first floor was where clients and guests came in, not that they had many of these. Client visits were rare and almost always announced ahead of time, but just in case, there was a front desk with an eager receptionist who never looked like he had much to do. Half of the first floor was underground, and it was this half that housed the storage section.

It was cold and a little damp back there. Most of the staff refused to go back there, but there was something about it Sansa liked. Maybe it was the organization of it all, rows and rows of shelving with everything from old printers, desks, chairs, boxes of paper and office supplies, and then in the last row, the decorations. Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Easter, May Day, Midsummer’s Day, autumn and harvest decorations, Halloween, Thanksgiving. The Crypt also reminded Sansa of exploring her basement as a child, the multitudes of storage from past generations, everything kept, nothing thrown away.

Sansa unlocked the door, left it unlocked behind her with the key in the deadbolt so she wouldn’t lose it in the clutter, and then waved her arm in front of the sensor pad by the front door. The light flickered on, and Sansa set to work, a little dismayed at the thick layer of dust. She would really have to talk to Renly about having the cleaning crew come down here to clean occasionally. He was a bit of an out-of-sight, out-of-mind type of person, and of course, he never came down there.

Sansa made her way back to the back row, humming to herself as she found the boxes labelled Christmas. She dug them all out, someone had stacked the Easter decorations on top. Then she opened one of the Christmas boxes and was dismayed to find someone had mislabeled it. She looked at the Christmas label, and sure enough, it had been peeled off at some point. So now she had to find the real Christmas boxes.

She grumbled to herself as she began to pull down boxes and flip open the lids. She finally found the Christmas decorations, mislabeled as harvest decorations. She was just switching the labels (the real harvest boxes were labelled Halloween, and the Halloween decorations were labelled Easter), when she heard the door open, and froze.

“Hello?” she called.

“Sansa?” she heard a familiar voice reply, then Sandor came into view at the end of the row.

“Do you need any help?”

“No, I’m fine. Just- someone switched these labels. I don’t know why someone would do that.”

“Oh, that Baratheon brat. He does that to the supply closet upstairs sometimes, though not recently since I caught him doing it and told him I would kick the shit out of him if he didn’t cut it out. He must have decided to move his operation to the basement.”

Sandor smiled and waved as he turned. Sansa was desperate to clear the air between them, so she called after him.

“I just- just want to apologize for the other night.” Sandor looked confused. “You know…”

Sandor shook his head. “No, I don’t know.”

“The holiday party. I am so sorry if I embarrassed you with that song.”

He looked like he was almost smiling. It was dark, so it was hard to tell. “I wasn’t embarrassed.”

“Oh God, I was. Margaery came over yesterday, did you know she had to drive me home that night? I don’t know what happened, I was having a wonderful night, and Margaery says she didn’t realize how drunk I was because I seemed reasonably sober. She just kept buying me shots, and then we started hanging out with the sales team. Dany? She must have had a wooden leg, that’s the only explanation. She outdrank me two to one and didn’t even seem a little tipsy. And then everyone said I should sing, and the only song I could mostly remember the words to was Santa Baby.”

“You tried to keep up with Dany?” Sandor interrupted. Sansa nodded.

“You were doomed from the start. She regularly drinks Tormund and the guys under the table.” Tormund was another member of the IT team.

“Well, I know that now!” Sansa chuckled wearily. “And then Margaery came over yesterday and made me breakfast, and showed me the video she took. And I was just mortified, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.”

Her hands flew to her temples in exasperation as she relived that moment. Sandor was silent for a moment. When he spoke his voice was low and quiet.

“Was it that embarrassing? That someone might think you had feelings for me?”

Sansa had begun to stack boxes again, but stopped and looked up at him suddenly. “No, of course not! I’d be so lucky to have a guy like you. It’s just- even if I did- it would be such a silly way to tell people- our whole workplace!- that I had feelings for you. If I did, have feelings, of course. Silly though.”

Sandor took a few steps closer, began to lift boxes and slide them onto the shelves, stacking them two high. Sansa watched the muscles of his bicep bulge through the fabric of his pale blue work shirt.

“So you agree, it is ridiculous to think you have feelings for me?” he asked. Sansa suddenly realized all the boxes except for the correct Christmas decoration boxes, were now stacked on the shelves. Sansa was just gazing into Sandor’s stormy grey eyes, when the lights flipped off.

Sansa yelped slightly, and jumped closer to Sandor, who instinctively put his arms around her shoulders. Sansa felt her heart climb up in her throat, and felt a little pang of disappointment when he immediately stepped back.

“Those damn automatic lights. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

“No! Don’t leave me in the dark.” Sansa clutched at what she was fairly sure was his arm.

“It’s all right, I’ll be right back.” She heard a little bit of a smile in his voice, but he wasn’t laughing at her.

“No, I’m going with you.” Sansa felt Sandor shrug, but he said nothing. Sansa held onto his elbow and followed as he made his way slowly down the row, then turned and felt his way in the dark to the front door.

They reached the door safely, and Sandor waved his other hand in front of where he assumed the motion sensor was. Nothing happened.

He reached forward and found the wall, and Sansa heard him begin to feel around, trying to find the control pad. “There it is.”

She heard the click of the button, the one that was supposed to manually turn the light on. Nothing happened. Finally, he tried the door. Locked.

“You had the key, right?”

“Yes, I left it in the door so I wouldn’t lose it.”

Sandor sighed. “Well, someone’s locked us in.”

“Who knew you were down here?” Sansa asked.

“Renly, he asked me to come get lightbulbs, said a light went out in his office.”

“He sent me down for Christmas decorations.” Another thought occurred to her. “Did you bring your phone?”

He patted his pockets. “Fuck, no. Must be at my desk. You?”

Sansa groaned. “These pants don’t have pockets.”

“Ok, well, we’ll just have to wait. Hopefully someone will notice we’re missing eventually.”

Sansa did some mental math. “It must be lunch time now. Could be an hour before they notice.”

Sandor grunted in agreement, and tried the lights again. Nothing.

“Well, we’ve got time to kill. Want to sing? Another Santa Baby?”

Sansa felt her jaw drop as Sandor began to hum. She swatted at him but missed horribly. “Don’t make fun of me!”

Sandor chuckled, “I would never. You have a very nice voice. Even when you’re apparently blackout drunk.”

Sansa hid her face again. “At least this morning wasn’t too bad, I was worried everyone would start pointing and laughing or something.”

“Margaery made it pretty clear that she would personally make life miserable for anyone who brought it up.”

“Did she really? Aww. No one’s ever threatened co-workers for me before.”

Sandor sniffed. “Well, I’m sorry everyone thinks you like me. I’d be happy to tell them the truth.”

Sansa felt that lump in her throat again, then the hairs on her neck stood up as Sandor’s arm brushed against her. “You don’t have to do that,” she stammered.

“Course I do. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Sansa felt her cheeks begin to glow. “That’s not why I felt uncomfortable. I made a fool of myself in front of everyone.”

She felt him shrug. He must have been standing right in front of her now. “Why is that anything to feel foolish about. Singing the wrong words?”

“It wasn’t just the wrong words. I said your name. And the whole song is- is suggestive and- and- sexual.” For once she was grateful for the dark, as she was sure her whole face was on fire now.

“And that’s bad, being associated with me in a suggestive way?”

“It’s not bad, but it’s not- not true,” she finished lamely.

“Ah. Stickler for truth, huh?”

Sansa warred with her thoughts, tried to put them into words. But it was all too much, she kept picturing his gruff smile, his broad chest that made his button-down shirts swell at the seams, the way he always fixed her email every time it broke down, and the way his mouth twisted when he was concentrating. She grabbed Sandor’s arm, and pulled him towards her. It was slightly awkward in the dark, but her hand quickly found the back of his neck, and she pulled him down to her. Their mouths collided in the dark, and Sansa waited in nervous anticipation for Sandor’s reactions. She moaned softly as Sandor deepened the kiss, his arms slipping around her waist, pulling her against his solid body.

After a few moments, Sansa leaned back to catch her breath. “You never asked, that’s why,” she said breathily.

“Asked what?”

Sansa shivered as his breath tickled her face. She smiled against his cheek. “You never asked why I was so nervous around you.”

For once, Sandor seemed to be the one at a loss for words, though he recovered quickly. “You were nervous because I’m a six and a half foot scowling ox. And you’re a pretty girl who’s way too sweet to be hanging around me.”

“I’m not that sweet,” Sansa murmured as she leaned forward to press her lips against Sandor’s again, her fingers combing through the cropped hair on the back of his neck. Sandor pressed on hand between her shoulder blades, one curling around the back of her neck, the tips of his fingers making her shiver as he stroked the delicate skin behind her ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had feelings for me?” he asked, turning his head to kiss the same spot behind her ear, making her gasp and shudder at the over-stimulation.

“Well, at first, I thought you didn’t like me. You were so gruff and didn’t talk to me. And then I thought you just liked me as a friend. And sure, I thought you were cute, and I knew I liked talking to you. I guess I didn’t realize I had stronger feelings until Margaery showed me the video. Is that silly of me?”

Sandor chuckled low in her ear, having moved on to kissing her neck, his beard scratching her deliciously. “No, I could have said something earlier. I just thought you were scared of me.”

Sansa had a little trouble processing his words, as his lips continued to travel down to her collarbone, then up the other side of her neck. “Wait, when did you know you liked me?”

Sandor scoffed. “First day I met you, of course.”

Sansa flushed even deeper as Sandor’s lips found hers in the dark. She craned her neck up as far as she could, but still disliked the space between them caused by their difference in height. On a whim, she leapt up, relying on Sandor to catch her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Sandor did catch her, hands on the backs of her thighs. The force of her jump caused him to stagger back a few paces, where he collided with a shelf. The shelf fell to the floor with a crash, items spilling to the floor to roll all around them.

Sansa giggled into Sandor’s neck, though neither were that concerned about the mess. Sandor let his lips linger on her cheek for a moment as he rearranged his hold on her, one hand on her ass, the other pressed against her lower back, slipping under the T-shirt that had become untucked in the embrace. Sansa sighed with pent-up tension as Sandor brushed his lips against hers softly, then deepened the kiss. Sansa moaned softly against her mouth, a shiver running up and down her spine and arms. She felt that kiss everywhere, her toes, her knees. She was grateful she wasn’t on her feet, or she soon would have been off of them.

Sandor grunted and broke the kiss suddenly. “Sandor,” she protested breathily.

The source of Sandor’s discomfort rapidly became apparent to Sansa, pressing against her through his khakis and her trousers, firm and insistent. “Oh,” Sansa gasped.

“Sorry, got a little carried away. Maybe you should-” Sandor explained with a self-conscious laugh.

Sansa disengaged her legs from his waist, dropping to her feet unsteadily. Unfortunately, her foot fell on something round that rolled away quickly, and Sansa found herself wheeling in the dark, her arms reaching out to Sandor for support. He put out his arms to catch her, but Sansa ended up backing into another shelf. This one held firm, luckily, however a box fell from the shelf with a large clang.

That was when the door opened, and the lights flicked on, temporarily blinding them. Sansa held her hand in front of her eyes, squinting towards the door. The front desk receptionist stood staring at them, and the mess on the floor.

Sandor had backed into a shelf of spray cans, one of which Sansa had stepped on. None of them had broken or punctured, luckily, but they were scattered on the floor around them, the shelf itself tilted tipsily, but not damaged. Sansa had backed into a shelf of office supplies, and a box of printer cartridges had upended when she bumped into it.

Sansa turned to the receptionist. “Why did you lock us in?” she asked sharply.

He turned pale. “I’m sorry, Renly told me he left his key in the Crypt, to go get it and bring it back to him. So I did. Then he said he forgot the printer paper he came down to get.”

Sansa considered this explanation, and found it extremely unlikely, but she nodded her head. “Give me the key. We’ll clean up here and then lock up.”

“That doesn’t explain the lights,” Sandor said as Sansa retrieved the key. “Why did they turn off? We couldn’t get them back on?”

The hapless receptionist cringed slightly at Sandor’s menacing glower. Sansa almost giggled.

“It’s- automatically tied to the lock. If the door’s locked, the lights turn off. Maybe we should have an emergency lock or something.”

“You think?” Sandor replied acerbically.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t design the door locks, you just did what Renly told you to do. Though you might want to check if there’s people in here first before you lock it.” Sansa navigated around the debris to the shelf with printer paper, and grabbed a few reams. The receptionist took them gratefully and quickly left.

Sansa watched in amusement as Sandor’s face transformed from imposing scowl to friendly smile in a few seconds. She laughed as she handed him the key to hold and turned to start picking up printer cartridges. “Do you enjoy beings so intimidating?”

He slipped the key in his pocket, then turned to fix the shelf, face twisted in a half-smile, like he was trying not to smile but failing. “Maybe. It saves time. Most people don’t talk to me when I’m being an ass like that.”

He collected the cans as Sansa felt her cheeks turning red again as she turned to put the printer cartridges back into the box on the shelf. It was hard to believe they had just been making out in the supply closet, and for a fleeting second, she wondered if that’s all it had been. That was, until Sandor slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest.

“Is this ok?” he asked, sweeping her hair away from her neck to leave soft, delicate kisses on the back of her neck.

Sansa nodded, then whispered croakily, “What now?”

“I thought I’d help you with the boxes, then maybe we could go get lunch, before I make a meal out of you.”

Sansa flushed again, giggling like a schoolgirl as Sandor nibbled at her ear. “I meant-”

“Ah, I think I know what you mean. What do you want to happen now?”

Sansa spun in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck. “I want you to take me to dinner. I’ll wear my heels, so you won’t have to bend your back in half every time you want to kiss me.”

He shrugged and cocked one eyebrow. “Totally worth it,” then kissed her once to prove it.

“Then, you know, I may or may not make out with you after dinner, maybe some very classy second base, over the bra.”

Sandor gasped in theatrical excitement. “Under the shirt? I’m shivering just thinking about it.”

Sansa laughed as Sandor kissed her again. “You know Renly set this whole thing up, right? Pretty sure he noticed we’re the only two in the office who don’t ever go on dates, and decided to play matchmaker.”

Sandor straightened, a slight frown on his lips. “Damn. Does this mean I have to be nice to him?”

“Would it kill you?” Sansa asked teasingly, disengaging from him reluctantly to go retrieve a box of Christmas decorations.

“Maybe.”

  
  
  


A few hours later, after sandwiches at the deli, Sansa elicited Sandor’s help in stringing up lights. If Davos, the head of IT, thought it was strange that Sandor should suddenly take an interest in office decorations, he didn’t show it. Maybe he just thought Sansa picked him for his height. It was very useful to not have to worry about a step ladder.

They plugged in all of the lights first, to make sure they worked, then strung up the multi-colored lights around the office, starting at the entrance by the elevators, continuing around the third floor, using the hooks that had been left up from last year. Sansa thought it was probably the most fun she’d ever had at work, and was sad when she had to get back to emails and Instagram copy. She consoled herself with the thought of their date, which would have to wait until tomorrow, because Sandor couldn’t get a reservation at the nice restaurant he wanted. And there was always the promise of taking down the decorations, which maybe could be as fun as putting up.

Back at her desk, Sansa sent Sandor an instant message with her phone number, and got a quick text moments later. She had to put aside the butterflies to focus on the email copy, which she somehow tapped out in fifteen minutes and shot over to Cersei, who sent an approving message back. Sansa checked that off of her to do list with a sense of satisfaction, then moved onto the next item.

Soon, Margaery was standing up, pulling on her coat. “So, you were gone for most of the day,” she observed with a cheeky smile.

Sansa locked her computer and leaned back, toying with the idea of leaving early also. She picked up her phone to text Sandor, to ask him when he would be leaving for the day. “Well, I had that thing to do for Renly.”

Margaery chuckled. “I’m sure you did. I couldn’t help but notice _Sandor_ was gone a lot too,” she whispered the name dramatically.

 _Whenever you’re leaving_ came the text reply from Sandor. Sansa locked her phone with a grin, then looked up at Margaery. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Margaery gave her a knowing smirk. “Oh, you’ve got it bad! Have a good night, Sansa. Don’t stay up too late.”

Sansa packed up her things, pulling on her coat. She saw Sandor stand up as well, and tried to hide her smile, pretending she was too busy checking her phone to notice. She looked up with a smile when they both reached the door that separated the little lobby by the elevator from the rest of the office. Sandor opened it for her, and followed her out.

When Sansa was sure they were alone, she put her phone away in her coat pocket.

“You know, if you’re not doing anything tonight, maybe you’d want to come over? I have a few sappy Christmas movies I was going to watch, we can put them on and then not pay attention to them at all.”

Sandor grinned his sexy crooked smile. “I’d like that.”

As the elevator doors opened, he chuckled. “You know, I never used to really like Christmas?”

“And now?” Sansa asked as she hit the button for the parking garage.

Sandor eyed the mistletoe that someone had hung from the center of the ceiling of the elevator, then back at Sansa with lifted eyebrows. Sansa grinned and grabbed hold of his coat collar, pulling him down to her with a smirk.

The elevator doors opened a minute later to cheers, and Sansa blushed as she saw the flash of a cell phone camera. Margaery, Renly, and Cersei were all standing outside the elevator doors in the parking garage, Margaery taking pictures like crazy, the others throwing loose tinsel and hooting hilariously. Renly had his phone out, playing “Santa Baby” as Sansa blushed like mad. Sandor hit the button for the third floor and kissed Sansa again as the doors closed.

“Might be my favorite holiday now,” he murmured as they rode the elevator back up. Sansa grinned against his lips and secretly agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
